


How to Cope During an Apocalypse

by orphan_account



Series: How to Tell Someone You Love Them [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Character, Asian-American Character, Best Friends, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, Dark Magic, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gen, I just wanted Tom Riddle to be baffled by gen z humor, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Outdated use of memes, Sane Tom Riddle, Slow Burn, Slytherins Being Slytherins, The Author Regrets Everything, World War II, fatalistic humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26926699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: 2020 was an absolute nightmare.Helena was 90% sure the apocalypse had finally arrived.Trapped at home and with her mental health deteriorating, it wasn't her fault that she wished for a little escape from this hellish life. Still, that did not mean she wanted to be dropped in the 1940's, which was a hellish time period on its own.But hey, at least magic exists.And Helena would never let an opportunity like that slip from her finger tips.Even if it meant living in the same time period as Tom Riddle.
Relationships: Tom Riddle & Original Female Character(s), Tom Riddle/Original Female Character(s)
Series: How to Tell Someone You Love Them [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009734
Comments: 17
Kudos: 43





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Tom Riddle is a complex character that wasn't written well in the original series. His tragic backstory explains his fucked up mentality and motives, and he is more than just a villain for Harry to defeat. He is a flawed human being, and he'll never be the type of person who cares about other people without benefiting from it first. While it is possible for him to form relationships with other people, there's no guarantee that those relationships would be entirely healthy for either person, and he'll always be inherently dark no matter how much he's changed through the 'power of love.' He's probably extremely possessive of things he considers his, including other people, and that has the potential to be very toxic, so writing him in a healthy relationship will be very challenging and will require a deeper understanding of the character.
> 
> Also me: *slams fist on the table* TOM RIDDLE DESERVES TO HAVE SOMEONE HE CAN BE SOFT AND EMOTIONALLY VULNERABLE WITH TO JUST HOLD AND CHERISH AS TWO EQUALS IN A RELATIONSHIP!!!!

* * *

Helena woke up surrounded by white.

She… wasn’t really sure if she was dreaming or not, lucid or otherwise. 

This has never happened before.

Helena was completely surrounded by white walls and white floors, some formed arches and doorways while others created what looked like a train track. 

It wasn’t until a train pulled into what was beginning to become a train station, the words  _ Hogwarts Express _ written on the front, then she realized where she was.

After all, it wasn’t hard to recognize a scene from Harry Potter.

But nothing really made sense. Was she dead? Was that why she was standing in the ghostly platform of 9 ¾? Harry Potter wasn’t exactly an option for the afterlife so that didn’t make sense either. Why was she there?

A thought entered her mind, and she crouched down to check.

Sure enough, the ghastly form of Voldemort was huddled under the bench, bloody and inhumane, whimpering like the pathetic baby it was. Frankenstein’s monster appeared in her head, it’s description seemed almost fitting with what she saw before her.

Still, her heart ached for him, she always hated how he was written, and seeing him now was almost pitiful, trapped between life and death, unable to move on.

Without thinking Helena reached out towards him, yet she shrunk back when he opened his crimson eyes, watching her. Voldemort reached out to her, his arm feeble and shaking.

“How interesting,” a voice murmured behind her.

Helena quickly turned around and faced who she assumed was Dumbledore. 

_ Old white man with a long beard and robe-like clothes? _

_ Check _

_ Those dumb, twinkling eyes often described in the books? _

_ Double check _

“It has been a while since I’ve had a visitor here,” he mused, “nevertheless someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” Helena echoed, indignation rising up in her throat.

Dumbledore’s stupid eyes twinkled as he gestured to the incoming train, “Would you like to find out?”

Helen looked at the ghostly train then back to the wizard, only to discover that he disappeared. She debated on whether or not she should try to wake herself up.

Because obviously this is a dream right?

  
  


But… her life wasn’t exactly perfect at the moment. 2020 really decided to kill her mental health, and hey, if her brain decided that this was the only way to cope, then who was she to deny the chance to live out one of her fantasies before she found out J.K Rowling was problematic. 

_ If this is how I die _ , she thought to herself as she stepped on the train,  _ I’m going to be really pissed. _

She found herself a nice empty compartment, admiring the comfortable seats and the delicate carvings that lined the walls.

And as the train pulled away from the station, Helena let her mind drift to other things, and soon enough she fell asleep.

Maybe if she was crazy enough, she’ll start to dream too.

* * *

Sometimes, when you have a good night’s sleep, you wake yourself up in the morning.

No alarms, no yelling parents, just your brain saying,  _ Hey, I think we’re done now. _

  
  


That was not what happened to Helena.

No, instead, she got the wonderful experience of a post-stress dream. Yes, she really enjoyed being startled awake with her heart hammering against her ribcage, a tight feeling in her chest, and dread pooling in her stomach, with no actual memory of what she dreamed about.

Just bad vibes all around.

Helena had a bad taste in her mouth, a throbbing headache, and the general feeling of crawling back into bed and just leaving the world behind.

Except she  _ couldn’t _ because her body was still running on adrenaline.

God _ dammit _

_ Maybe if I drink water first _ , Helena thought as she sat up, trying to rub the sleepiness out of her eyes,  _ then go back to sleep I could--- _ she paused.

_ \---wait a minute. _

Helena looked around her, anxiety pooling in her stomach.

Why was she still in the compartment?

She looked outside and instead of seeing the emptiness of the white walls she saw trees and grass blurred by the train’s speed. The sky was blue and there were some clouds. The sun was shining and she could see birds trying to keep up, and  _ ohmygodwhywasn’tsheinherhouse???? _

Ghostly Platform 9 ¾ was a dream,  _ it was a dream _ , so why hasn’t she woken up yet?

Helena looked down at her clothes, nearly sighing in relief when she saw something that wasn’t her pajamas because good  _ lord _ that would’ve been  _ extremely _ awkward.

She quickly pinched her arm, wincing when she felt a sharp sting.

_ Okay, _ she thought to herself,  _ not a dream. This is fine, everything is fine. I probably got kidnapped and I’ll never see my family again, but it’s fine. _

Helena squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to get her thoughts and emotions in order.

_ Stay calm, remember your defensive training. And whatever you do, don’t let them take you to a secondary location. _

_ Heh, ‘you ain’t taking me to no secondary location’ _

_ Oh my GOD please focus _

Taking a deep breath, Helena opened her eyes again, trying to remember what happened before she fell asleep. She had online school, her mom screamed at her for not doing enough to get into college even though they were in the middle of a  _ fucking pandemic _ , and  _ then _ she went to sleep crying as her parents bought her older sister a new car.

When did the kidnappers get her?

_ “It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone here, some like you no less. _ ”

Helena refrained from screaming.

_ Hey Dumbledore, what the FUCK are you implying? _

She wasn’t,  _ actually _ on her way to Hogwarts, right?

Right???

The compartment was the same as she remembered, the scenery outside couldn’t be a coincidence, and she  _ certainly _ would remember boarding a train before she fell asleep.

Oh my god she was going to Hogwarts. Does that mean she has magic now? How was this even possible?

_ Dumbledore gestured to the incoming train, “Would you like to find out?” _

Helena wasn’t even aware she was crying until her vision began to go blurry. She took a deep breath, desperately trying to stay positive, but her thoughts were already spiraling.

She didn’t… this wasn’t… she didn’t  _ actually want this _ .

When she wished for an escape from life she didn’t think anyone was  _ actually listening _ , much less some old wizard with a god-complex.

She would never see her family again. Her friends, her pets, her entire  _ life _ , was gone.

Her breath grew shorter, quicker, more panicked. Her vision tunneled.

  
  


She didn’t hear the door open.

* * *

Tom Riddle was a prefect.

Out of all his peers, the professors chose  _ him _ to be the one with the authority.

He should feel happier.

But instead, all he felt was this lingering sense of dissatisfaction and disappointment.

Maybe, it was because deep down, he knew that the shiny badge pinned on his second-hand uniform meant nothing. If anything it implied  _ servitude _ to the other students, a task he loathed with his entire being.

Being a prefect wasn’t real power, it was a pathetic imitation of it.

And yet, he had an image to maintain, an image that earned him the role in the first place. So he bore the responsibility with a smile, and politely told his peers that they would be arriving at Hogwarts soon.

Every student greeted him with a big smile, even as he wore the green and silver tie.

Smart, humble, orphan Tom Riddle. The poor boy who had no family, no status to his name, a muggle-born, a nobody.

_ Two years,  _ he reminded himself as he approached his last compartment,  _ just two more years until I can discard this identity, assume my true name. _

  
  


_ Lord Voldemort, the heir of Salazar Slytherin, and the only one with the power to wield the monster within the Chamber of Secrets. _

Tom was a patient man. He waited all of his life for this, he could wait a few more years.

The Slytherin knocked on the door, peering through the glass to see a girl alone in the compartment, seemingly unaware of his presence at the door.

_ I don’t recognize her _ , he thought curiously,  _ she looks my age. _

Admittedly, also, it would be hard to miss hair like that, the bright, lavender ombre color was unforgettable. 

Almost impulsively Tom opened the compartment door, and it was then he could hear her crying.

Actually no, it sounded like she was hyperventilating. 

Tom walked into the compartment and sat down next to her. When she still hadn’t acknowledged him yet, he closed his eyes briefly and cleared his throat awkwardly.

Next to him the girl startled, quickly putting distance between herself and Tom. 

He could look at her face more clearly now, and Merlin, she was a  _ mess _ .

Her fox-shaped eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks were blotchy from her tears.

Her expression was so  _ lifeless _ and apathetic even as tears continued to spill from her eyes, that he  _ knew _ it was a front.

“What do you want?” she asked quietly, her hands curling into fists.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Tom tried for a reassuring smile, but he was almost certain it fell flat, “I suppose you’re new to Hogwarts? I know the distance from home can be tough, but you’ll come to think of it as your second home. I promise,” he stuck out his hand for her to shake, “My name is Tom Riddle.”

The girl froze, her apathetic countenance slipping into one of disbelief. 

Then she began to laugh.

It started as a quiet giggle, then it devolved into a shrieking, hysterical laughter that had her clutching her stomach, tears forgotten.

Tom just stood there, inwardly wondering if he made a mistake coming here, when she finally took his hand and shook it, her hysterical giggles subsiding for now.

“Sorry,” she said, her grin a little too crooked, “I wasn’t laughing at you, something just occurred to me and I didn’t know whether I should laugh or cry,” she shrugged in a what-can-you-do kind of way, “I’m Helena, Kim.”

He didn’t really want to kiss her hand, who knows if she used it to wipe her snot away?

So instead, Tom brought her hand to his forehead and bowed in an imitation of a kiss, “Pleasure to meet you Miss Kim,” he said pleasantly, letting go of her hand and allowing curiosity to get the better of him, “pardon me for asking but are you from the States? You have their accent.”

Kim nodded, gripping the edges of the seat with her hands as her leg began to shake in anticipation, “Yeah, I’m from California.”

“Did you attend Ilvermorny beforehand?” he asked, “You look like you are in my year, and I imagine that it must’ve been difficult switching schools now, in the middle of a war no less.”

She looked at him like he was crazy, “Ilvermorny is on the opposite side of the country,” she said indignantly, “not to mention, like,  _ super _ problematic. No, I taught myself magic,” Kim closed her eyes, “my parents were muggles, illegal immigrants. The American government didn’t care if we existed, so why would the magical one acknowledge us?” her chipper mood dampened as she seemed to recall something bitter, “they rounded us up, locked us away like animals. My parents died in those camps, I was the only one who survived,” her leg shook faster, “I wished I could be somewhere else, somewhere better,” she took a deep breath, “next thing I knew, I wake up in an empty compartment being told I’m going to Hogwarts.”

There was a moment, a stillness, between them, as they both absorbed what she just said. 

Kim broke eye contact first and hid her face in her hands, “Jesus  _ Christ _ I did not mean to infodump on you,” her laugh was strained and nervous, “this is so embarrassing, please forget I said any of that.”

Tom paused for a moment. The only camps he’s heard of were the ones in Germany. He didn’t know the States had them too.

He knew Japan bombed something there, he knew that was why they were finally entering the war.

This shouldn’t be so surprising to him, muggles were known for their depravity after all.

But seeing someone else, someone like him, a  _ true _ victim of the war, felt strange. None of the other muggle-borns he has talked to experience the same thing he’s had. No, they were unaffected, protected in their cozy suburban homes being fed war propaganda while  _ he _ had to protect  _ himself _ from the world, the bombs.

And they have the audacity to have pride in their muggle heritage.

_ There’s nothing to be proud about. _

“It’s alright,” he said once he finally found his words, “I understand.”

He really did.

  
  


And perhaps, that was the most surprising thing of all.

* * *

Helena  _ knew _ , she  _ knew _ Tom Riddle was a bitch ass liar.

He’ll probably be the most insincere person she’ll ever meet, hiding every emotion behind a fake smile and sheepish expression.

But her emotions were a mess, and he looked like he gave good hugs.

_ There’s no textual evidence for that stupid _ , she scolded herself mentally,  _ you just think he’s pretty. _

She really,  _ really _ did.

Tom Riddle, in the flesh, staring at her like he understood every problem she’s ever had, like she’s the  _ only one _ who could understand him, confirming her suspicions as to why she was there in the first place.

_ Dumbledore you fucking asshole _ .

_ I just traded one apocalyptic time period for another are you KIDDING me?! _

  
  


It was strange, making up her backstory on the spot. Helena held no love for her country, she didn’t mind using them as an excuse for her predicament because technically, this really was the US government’s fault.

She needed something to explain why she’s American, why she’s a muggle-born and doesn’t know magic, why she suddenly appeared on the train with nothing except the clothes on her back.

It honestly didn’t give her many options, but she didn’t take improv classes at school for nothing. Then, all she had to do was let her real emotions leak through and  _ boom _ , sad backstory.

Still, she wasn’t nearly as good of an actor as Lord Voldemort was.

Was it really possible to fake that much empathy and understanding? Maybe he really did relate to her sad backstory.

She still felt a little anxious being so close to another person without either of them wearing a mask, but that was bound to happen after months of quarantine.

And she really,  _ truly _ , wanted to be his friend.

And she never liked how he was written anyways.

So she took his hand and intertwined her fingers with his, smiling with the utmost sincerity, “Thank you,” she said, dimly aware she looked like absolute trash, “for listening.”

Tom Riddle didn’t pull away immediately, but he did briefly look down where their hands were touching with an unreadable expression on his face. When he looked up he smiled, soft and utterly devastating, “It was my pleasure,” he said, “I look forward to getting to know you more… Helena.”

Maybe she was in it for a hug, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have ulterior motives either.

Still, she felt a little guilty lying to him like that, even if it was for her own safety.

  
  
_ Maybe I’m a bitch ass liar too _ , she thought to herself as she finally let go of the first human contact she’s made with someone who wasn’t her family in months,  _ but I think it’s worth it. _

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea would not get out of my head lmao. It's such a niche trope that I'm not even sure if other people will read it, but I enjoy writing it so...oh well
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	2. Chapter 1

* * *

“We should probably get you to the headmaster,” Tom said, staring at the strange girl who just grabbed his hand, “once the train stops.”

She looked up, her attention snapping back towards him, “Hm? Oh,” her smile was unbearably fake, “yeah, that’s probably the smartest thing to do.”

He watched as she began to fidget, her fake smile growing wider as she played with her colored hair. Tom was honestly beginning to think she was going insane, until she spoke again.

“I’m sorry,” her voice was tinged with anxiety, “god this is going to be so awkward, but, like, is there any way for me to, sorry, um,  _ not _ stand out? I don’t exactly blend in well and it’s making me really anxious,” she buried her face into her hands again, “my emotions are a little frazzled right now, and I  _ really _ don’t need people staring and asking questions.”

Tom pondered the best solution to the situation. He understood that sometimes the best thing is just to blend in with the crowd, and he was partly worried that she might break out into hysterical laughter again.

If he wanted to gain her trust, learn more about her, then he had to help.

He could try a disillusion spell, but those weren’t reliable, especially in an open area like Hogwarts,  _ and _ he didn’t want to risk people running over her. 

Probably their most pressing problem was her hair. How did she even make it that color?

“Could I borrow your robe?” Helena asked uncertainly, “use the hood to hide the fact that my hair sticks out like a sore thumb?”

“That could work,” Tom agreed, shrugging off his robe and handing it to her, watching her try to put it on.

Helena was a couple inches shorter than him, and by consequence she nearly disappeared under the black and green. The sleeves were longer than her arms and the hem of the robe was dragging on the floor, but when she pulled the hood over her head, obscuring her colorful hair and casting her face in dark shadows, she became nearly unremarkable.

She looked no different than the first-year muggleborns playing with wizard clothing for the first time. 

Tom guessed that being swallowed by his robe was comforting for her, as underneath his hood he could see her grin, sincere this time.

Lifting the hood from her eyes, Helena looked younger and more innocent, a child trying on their parents clothes to see what it’s like. Her eyes were big and round, and she looked the happiest he’s seen her in awhile.

“This is really nice,” she commented as the train finally stopped, “I can’t wait to get one that actually fits me.”

Tom laughed and shook his head, “You’ll have to show me later,” he got up and offered his hand to her, “we should go, I’ll walk you to the headmaster’s office.”

Helena nodded and took his hand, then together they walked off the train and onto the horseless carriages. It took a little bit longer than expected, she kept getting distracted by the beauty of Hogwarts’ grounds, but soon enough they found a carriage all to themselves and rode peacefully to the castle.

“This place is so beautiful,” she said quietly, staring at the structure in awe, “I can’t believe I’m here.”

Tom let out a quiet sigh as he felt the castle’s magic thrum around him. 

  
  


Finally, he was home.

* * *

Helena didn’t really know what Tom Riddle would smell like.

Smoke? The smog of 1940’s London? Actual dirt?

But walking with him towards Headmaster Dippet’s office, drowning in his school robes, she couldn’t identify anything every time she took a breath. All she could smell was something so uniquely  _ his _ that all she could do was close her eyes and sink deeper into the comfort the endless void brought.

Because really, the fabric was  _ really  _ comfortable.

And  _ warm. _

To just allow her thoughts to go silent as she let him lead her through the halls of Hogwarts, admiring the paintings and carvings that lined the walls, actually  _ feeling _ the magical energy in the air, gave her a sense of peace and tranquility she hasn’t known in months.

She felt like a child again.

  
  


But of course, that feeling never lasts very long.

“What if they don’t let me attend Hogwarts?” Helena asked, “what am I gonna do then?”

“I don’t think he would do that,” Tom replied, “I’m sure Headmaster Dippet will be understanding of your situation.”

She glanced at him curiously, then observed the emerald green that lined the inside of her sleeves. After another minute or two of silence, the headmaster’s office was quite far, Helena thought,  _ fuck it _ , and played dumb, “Hey Tom?”

“Yes?”

“What does the green inside your robe mean? I saw some other students with different colors, and some with the same kind as you. Do they mean something here?”

Tom still hadn’t looked back at her, but that was fine. She wanted to admire his side-profile and that  _ razor sharp _ jawline anyways, “At Hogwarts, we have four Houses,” he explained, “each House has a certain set of traits that all their students share. Green is the color of the Slytherin House,” he gestured to himself, “where they value ambition and cunning. Each year, the new students are sorted into their House during our annual ceremony. The other Houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff.”

Helena didn’t get a chance to respond as they got closer to an elderly wizard heading their way. 

She didn’t really have a reference as to what Headmaster Dippet looked like, but old seemed a pretty good indicator, and this man was  _ ancient _ .

One thing she  _ did  _ notice; however, was the way Tom’s voice changed completely. To her, it was casual, friendly, coaxing, and gentle. When he spoke to the headmaster, his voice became more authoritative, but still humble, confident, and yet, there was an undertone of deference, like he would do anything the headmaster ordered him to.

Helena laughed internally, it was always funny to see a brown-noser in their element, handsome dark lord or not.

“Good evening Headmaster,” Tom said first.

Dippet, on the other hand, visibly brightened once he saw Tom, “Mr. Riddle! How good to see you. What brings you here? Shouldn’t you be with your friends in the Great Hall?”

Helena tried not to feel  _ too _ offended at the lack of acknowledgement from Dippet, but, it was the 1940’s there wasn’t much she could do.

_ Omg is Tom blushing right now? That HAS to be fake what the fuck? _

“There was an issue, on the train,” he took a step back and subtly nudged her forward, “I was doing my rounds when I met her,” he cleared his throat, “this is Helena Kim, she says she’s from the States.”

Helena took off her hood and plastered a sheepish smile on her face, “Hi.”

Dippet was quite surprised at the turn of events, “I don’t recall any transfer students from there,” he mused, “none that I remember at least. Please dear, tell me what happened.”

“I went to sleep, wishing I was somewhere else,” she began, “then I woke up on a train, on my way to Hogwarts. Mr. Riddle was very kind to me, and he was able to answer most of my questions, but I’m still not very sure how I got here in the first place.”

“Oh dear,” Dippet said mournfully, “if only we had more time. Please, wait in my office, and I’ll have a house-elf bring you food. I am so sorry miss, but the welcome feast begins soon and Albus will be very upset if I’m late again.”

“Headmaster,” Tom interrupted, “if it’s not too much trouble, I could wait with Miss Kim until you get back. I’m sure the other prefects will be able to cover for me.”

“Alright, I trust you,” Dippet gestured to his office, “the password is  _ ouroboros _ , and I’ll be back with Professor Dumbledore as soon as I can.”

The two teens thanked the old wizard and waved goodbye as he hobbled off down the hall. They then quickly made their way into the headmaster’s office, and the moment Tom closed the door behind them, Helena collapsed onto the carpet floor, sprawled out into a star-shaped position.

“Helena what are you doing?” Tom asked, exasperated already.

“I’m tired,” she complained, “and, like, emotionally exhausted. Sit down with me, the ground is really soft.”

“I imagine his carpet is filthy,” Tom said as he sat down next to her, “and you’re okay just lying down like that?”

She barely spared him a glance, “Builds your immune system,” she replied casually, “besides, you’re sitting here too.”

“Against my better judgement,” Tom said dryly, “but yes, I suppose you are right.”

“Mhm,” Helena closed her eyes, “get used to it.”

Their conversation lulled after that, just the two of them alone in the headmaster’s office, sitting on his dirty carpet floor. One thing she noticed was that with Tom, silence wasn’t really awkward. He had this way of making it seem like he was simply enjoying your company, even if they didn’t talk to each other. 

It was nice.

Eventually Tom did pull out his wand and mutter the incantation  _ scourgify _ towards the floor, but Helena was too caught up in her thoughts to care. 

What she  _ did _ care about was the body that was suddenly lying down next to her. He was a lot closer than she thought was appropriate for the time period, but she guessed when one was raised in the dregs of society, one did not care for the societal norms.

That,  _ or _ she allowed herself to be alone with a teen boy she barely knows, and said teen boy misread her intentions. Either way, Helena didn’t feel comfortable anymore and quickly sat up, not realizing she was outright glaring at him as her body geared up for a fight. 

Tom quickly noticed her change in behavior and sat up as well. He reached towards her with his hand but paused when she flinched, his expression shifting into one of concern.

“Did I step out of line?” he asked in the same tone he used when they first met, gentle, coaxing,  _ like talking to a scared animal _ .

“I am a little nervous about being alone with you,” she said in an even tone, barely betraying the slight tremble in her voice, “I don’t know you at all.”

Tom smiled, a lazy, crooked thing that probably revealed more about his personality than all their interactions together combined, “You are afraid I will take advantage of you?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I am a little insulted, but not surprised,” he leaned towards her, propping up his elbow and resting his chin on his hand, “but, allow me to assuage your fears, I would never take advantage of a woman I just met.”

_ That was hardly a comforting statement sir. _

But she would take what she could get.

“I had thought you found comfort in my touch,” he continued, “I apologize if my forwardness made you nervous, I do dislike seeing you that way.”

He reached out once more, palm facing up in an open invitation, “Forgive me?”

_ Smooth motherfucker _

She took his hand, relaxing as the anxious energy bled out of her, confident in the knowledge that she could happily knee him in the crotch if the opportunity arose.

Which was comforting to know. 

“I wish I didn’t embarrass myself like that,” Helena said honestly, gazing into his abyss-like eyes, “I’ve already cried in front of you once today, and you barely know me.”

His attention, again, was focused on their intertwined hands. He seemed to barely register her statement until he looked up, “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said in a low murmur, “if anything I should be flattered you feel so familiar with me.”

The feeling in her chest tightened again, and she could  _ feel _ a sob building up in her throat. What the hell was she doing anyway, legitimately enjoying his company? His words shouldn’t be so relaxing, so disarming. She knew,  _ knew _ he wasn’t the type of person to drop pretenses so quickly, but that didn’t mean she would also immediately let down her guard around him. 

_You are still in control_ , she reminded herself, _be aware of your surroundings._ _No one is coming to help you_.

_ No one is coming for me. _

_ They probably didn’t even notice I’m gone. _

_ They won’t miss me. _

She felt overwhelmed, and all her previous anxieties came back full force as she began to realize the gravity of her situation. Tears began to spill out of her eyes as she dropped his hand to hide her face, hyper-conscious of the second person in the room. Helena was stuck in another time period, away from her family and her life, holding hands with a man who would lead a genocide against people like her.

What could she do but cry?

* * *

“Did I say something wrong again?” he asked, watching fascinated as she turned away from him.

“No, I--” she curled up into a fetus position, her arms protectively circled around her, “I’m not--” 

“Just tell me what you need,” he instructed gently, “tell me what I can do.”

Helena stuck her hand out, her face still tucked in her knees. Slowly he took her hand with his, rubbing comforting circles as the two of them sat in silence, her muffled sobs the only sound in the room. He didn’t realize that one person could have a breakdown twice in one day, but perhaps she still had old feelings to sort out, old resentments. She sounded bitter, resentful of her situation. When he first met her, everything was pure panic. Now, it seemed she understood, and tears were the only outlet for her anger.

Faintly, he could hear something tremble, the small sound of glass clinking together. Looking up at the shelves of old trinkets Dippet kept, Tom watched them violently shake, teetering close to the edge. Portraits began to whisper among each other, their concern evident. Wind began to swirl around them, starting at a low murmur then rapidly shifting to a loud wail as it knocked the trinkets off the shelves and absorbed it into the miniature tornado forming in the office. 

Tom quickly cast a shield charm around the two of them, watching as magical energy crackled around them, pure, unbridled chaos. 

_ Accidental magic _ , Tom mused,  _ fascinating. _

But he needed to stop it, no matter how exhilarating it was to feel her magic brush up against his, feral and untethered. 

“Can you hear that sound Helena?” he asked, drawing her closer to him and taking her other hand to his, “can you feel it in the air around you?”

Slowly, hesitantly she lifted her head, her eyes widening as she took in the sounds, the new feelings, the sight of Dippet’s office that was all caused by her. He cherished the way her jaw went slack, pure wonder filling her countenance. 

“That,” she seemed at loss for words, “that’s all me?”

As her focus shifted, so did her magic, and he mourned its loss as it slipped back towards her, and as quickly as the tornado started it stopped, and the office went still, all the trinkets clattering on the ground, mercifully unbroken. 

“Are you feeling better?” he asked again. Her breathing had begun to slow down, and she didn’t look on the edge of hysterics anymore, so he took it as a good sign. 

“I swear I’m not normally like this,” she muttered, wiping away her tears and still in shock, “but I think I’m okay.”

“Your reaction is understandable,” Tom replied gently, silently marveling at what just happened, “given your situation.”

“Really?” she drawled sarcastically, rolling her eyes, “I didn’t know that.”

Tom raised his eyebrows but didn’t respond. He didn’t expect to enjoy her company as much as he did then, nor did he expect to keep initiating contact with her. Usually he avoided contact with other people, the idea of touching someone else revolted him. But on the train, when she suddenly grabbed his hand, it was nothing like he ever thought it would be. Her tiny hands were warm, and they fit neatly into his. Even now he observed their intertwined hands, marveling how seamlessly they fit together.

He told himself that she found comfort with human contact, and it was the easiest way to gain her trust. But, perhaps, that wasn’t quite true. How fascinating that the human body is designed to have people hold each other, fitting together like two puzzle pieces, or was it just the two of them that were simply made for each other?

The display of power itself was unexpected, but useful. It told him that she had potential. It told him that with  _ his _ guidance, she could easily become one of the most powerful witches of her generation. It told him that he could have a powerful conduit of magic by his side if he played his cards right.

Her mood changed with the winds, she was infectious and chaotic, and she was strong, stronger than he had expected from a witch like her.

_ It doesn’t matter. _

_ In the end her magic is mine to corrupt. _

“Tom?” she asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, more curious than insecure, “I get the vibe that you don’t do this very often.”

Why was he doing this?

For her secrets? 

Because he was bored?

For her magic?

Tom didn’t know.

“You are a very interesting person Helena,” he replied, “I find that it is hardly a dull moment with you around.”

Helena wrinkled her nose in disgust even as she grinned, “That’s so incredibly cheesy,” she said, “but whatever.”

Maybe it was because she was so strange, so  _ different _ from everybody else. Maybe it was because he found himself inclined to pay attention to whatever came out of her mouth.

And he wasn’t lying when he said it was never a dull moment with her.

“If I don’t get sorted into Slytherin,” she spoke again, sinking into a more pensive mood, “will we still get to hang out? Despite what my two mental breakdowns say, I really do enjoy hanging out with you.”

“It depends,” he said lightly, “on whether or not you would want to be seen with a slimy snake like me.”

“Snakes aren’t slimy,” she said automatically, “and that’s dumb. Of course I want to hang out with you.”

He hummed, “Your future housemates might disagree.”

“They can go eat shit and die.”

That startled a laugh out of Tom, much to the surprise of both of them.

“Isn’t that a little cruel? Wishing death to other students?”

“If they’re being judgemental assholes, then no, but if they did nothing to deserve it, then yes.”

By Salazar he was beginning to grow fond of this strange little American, “What an interesting philosophy to have,” he said instead.

“Thank you.”

* * *

Helena wondered how much of this was real.

She noticed him drop the prefect act a little bit, but she knew that there were still parts of him he was hiding from her.

Which was fine, since she was doing the exact same thing.

Still, she didn’t expect him to hold her like that at all. But honestly, she’s had an emotional roller-coaster of a day and having a warm, loving(?) hand to hold was something she needed very much. Helena suspected he did it to gain her trust, to cause her to seek comfort in his embrace, because she knows enough about tropes to understand that possibility number 1 is very likely. 

At the very least, she couldn’t trust him. She could trust him to give her the human contact she’s been craving, but that’s about it. If she hadn’t had a mental breakdown in front of him twice already, she would have also told herself to guard her emotions, but each time she cried Tom was able to bring her back to the present. He was grounding in a way she didn’t expect.

And  _ holy shit _ she had magic.

It was a feeling akin to flying, the rush of adrenaline on a rollercoaster as gravity pulls you down. It confirmed a lot of things for her, Helena wasn’t even sure she could do it. 

And also,

The way Tom looked at her as they sat in the center of her magical hurricane was unforgettable. And her mind went crazy trying to figure out what it meant. He looked almost reverent, as if in awe of her magic. She remembered something else joining the chaos, something darker and more powerful. 

Helena wondered if it was his.

The sound of a house-elf apparating snapped her out of her thoughts pretty quickly.

Helena nearly screamed at the sight of the creature, the poor bug-eyed, bat-eared, wrinkly ball sack of a creature. Tom, unsurprisingly, wasn’t fazed at all, and patiently introduced her to Missy, who handed them two trays filled with food.

Missy bowed and left, disappearing with a ‘pop.’

“House-elves are a lot to take in the first time you see them,” he said, laying their dinner on the floor, “but you’ll get used to it, I promise.”

They ate dinner together, and Helena made a mental note to introduce Korean food to the house-elves later, the food was too bland for her tastes. Their conversations were light-hearted and shallow, neither making any attempt to dig into the other’s past.

Eventually, like an hour later, Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore walked in with the Sorting Hat, most likely surprised to see a girl with purple hair and the quiet, reserved Slytherin leaning against each other, surrounded by old magical items scattered on the floor. Helena was fast asleep, resting her head on Tom’s shoulder. The Slytherin nodded respectfully when the two older wizards walked in, and quietly whispered something into the girl’s ear.

Helena’s eyes flew open and they immediately zeroed in on the two other wizards in the room. She blushed red in embarrassment and quickly stood up, hauling the amused Slytherin up with her.

“Mr. Riddle,” Dumbledore said kindly, “thank you for keeping Miss Kim company. You may head back to your dorms now.”

Tom nodded stiffly and walked out, leaving Helena alone with the two old men.

“Miss Kim,” Dippet said, “we wish to welcome you to Hogwarts, and we would like to sort you into your prospective House, but first, is there anything else you’d like to tell us? I promise you that anything you say will not leave this room.”

Helena knew what she wanted to do, what she  _ had  _ to do.

“Uh hi, my name is Helena Kim,” she took a deep breath, “when I went to sleep it was the year 2020, and when I woke up, I was in the 1940’s,” she exhaled, “I’d like some, um, help please?”

Oh if only she was in the right frame of mind to cherish the surprised look on their faces.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any potential OOC-ness I really wanted them to hug
> 
> *Edit 11/10: I tweaked this chapter a lot cause when I initially wrote this I was in a pining mood lmao but i'm still lowkey not satisfied with how it turned out :( oh well
> 
> Also like I keep forcing myself to write slow burn/build relationships but liek my brain has already jumped to the part where they're in a relationship/comfortable friendship and it SHOWS IN MY WRITING UGHHHHH
> 
> Anywho big shoutout to everyone who actually read this fic, lowkey didn't expect that <3


	3. Chapter 2

* * *

  
  


“80 years into the future,” Dumbledore murmured, “I almost don’t want to believe it.”

“I don't really wanna believe I’m stuck in the 1940’s but… y’know,” Helena shrugged, “life happens I guess.”

“Merlin,” Dippet muttered to himself, “I need to sit down.”

Meanwhile, Dumbledore turned back to Helena, “Tell us everything you know,” he instructed, “everything you remember at least.”

“I went to sleep in my house, blissfully unaware that magic existed,” she said, “then I woke up on Platform 9 ¾, but, like, it was all white and ghostly and I thought I died.  _ Then _ you, your older self by the way, appeared to me and forced me to get on the train,” she was paraphrasing a little bit, but it was  _ so worth it _ to see the guilty look cross his face, “I fell asleep again, woke up on the real Hogwarts train, met Mr. Riddle, lied to him, came here,” she shrugged nonchalantly, “so… yeah.”

“I have never heard of something like this happening before,” he said, “I am not confident we can get you back home.”

Helena began to fidget with her hands, her anxiety becoming too much for her to just sit still, “I’m not,” she hesitated, “I don’t--- _ feel _ as sad as I should. I miss my old life, and I think I will cry about it occasionally, but---” she was tripping over her words, “can I stay here? I don’t really want to be  _ stuck _ on what happened to me, always hoping that I can find my way back,” she took a deep breath, “that’s pointless, and a waste of my time. I’d rather just move on, if that’s alright.”

“That is very wise of you Miss Kim,” Dippet said from his desk, “and we would happily accept you in our school and create a new identity for you.”

“We have a few more questions for you,” Dumbledore added, “and then tomorrow I can take you to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies.”

“First, what year should we place you in? You seem to be of similar age to Mr. Riddle, but fifth years have their OWLs, and that is a lot to ask for someone like yourself.”

“I think I can handle it,” Helena replied confidently, “I was supposed to have a big standardized test back at home anyways.”

The two men exchanged glances, but then Dippet nodded in agreement and Dumbledore just sighed, “And I assume you want to keep the backstory you told Mr. Riddle correct?”

“Yes please.”

Dippet clapped his hands together in a poor imitation of excitement, “That clears up a few things,” he said, “the professor and I will take care of the rest, but for now,” he gestured to the hat next to him, “would you like to be sorted?”

“I hope Mr. Riddle briefed you on the concept of our four Houses,” Dumbledore said as he handed the Sorting Hat to her, “but if not, Gryffindor is the house that values courage and chivalry, Ravenclaw values wisdom and intelligence, Hufflepuff values hard work and loyalty, and Slytherin values ambition and resourcefulness. Once you have been sorted, we will call up your House head and discuss your classes for this year. Any questions?”

Helena shook her head no and easily slipped on the hat over her head, silently wondering which House she was going to be in.

_ “Well well well what do we have here _ , _ ”  _ a disembodied voice spoke in her mind,  _ “it’s not very often I get to meet someone like you _ .”

She didn’t respond, not really looking forward to a hat’s judgment of her character.

It continued to make various noises at it rifled through her head. Every thought, every decision she’s ever made laid bare for that  _ thing _ to see. It saw her desires, goals, and fears. It saw  _ everything _ . When the Sorting Hat finally got to the memory of the ghostly platform, it nearly laughed out loud in delight at the sight of Albus Dumbledore gesturing for her to get on the train.

_ “I wonder,”  _ the hat mused, “ _ if he made a mistake sending someone like you _ .”

“ _ Hey _ ,” she snapped back, “ _ what the FUCK does that mean? _ ”

“Better be, SLYTHERIN,” the hat said out loud, not bothering to elaborate on his ominous statement.

Helena removed the hat from her head and scoffed,  _ At least it didn’t put me in Ravenclaw _ , she grumbled to herself,  _ that would’ve been racist _ .

Dumbledore gained a particularly pained expression at the mention of her new House, but Dippet looked delighted, “Congratulations Miss Kim,” he said happily, “I’ll call up Professor Slughorn right away so you two can discuss your coursework for the year. In the meantime, can you please wait outside? I would like to discuss something with Professor Dumbledore.”

Helena nodded and quickly left the office, collapsing on the floor and resting her head against the wall the moment she was alone. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart. 

This was what she wanted, right? She  _ wanted _ to stay and study magic. There was nothing good for her back home, even if she could somehow make it back. 

That wasn’t quite true. Helena did miss her dogs, and her friends, and her sister. She wished she could’ve left her parents on a good note, so that her memory of them wouldn’t have been tarnished by their fight. There were a lot of things she would miss, but it was important for her and her mental health to let it go. She was being given an entirely new start, a new chance at life, and the sooner she embraced that, the better.

_ Oh gosh,  _ she thought, excitement mixing in with her anxiety,  _ what classes should I take? _

Momentarily brushing aside her worries, Helena began to map out her coursework in her head. She knew she eventually wanted to delve into dark magic, it was just too fascinating  _ not  _ to, but the newly dubbed Slytherin also understood that it was important to have a good foundation on light and neutral magic as well, so that she doesn’t somehow go off the deep end and become the next dark lord,  _ lady _ ?

_ I wonder if Tom will help me out _ , she wondered, idly tracing patterns on the stone floor,  _ it would help his reputation, and he’s always looking for opportunities to gain trust. _

And, it would be nice to get the chance to hang with him more.

And admire his pretty face.

“Helena?” a voice called out to her, smooth and familiar, “are you done with your meeting already?”

The girl looked up to see Tom Riddle gazing down at her. 

Something else she noticed about him was his voice. It was lilting and soft, with the beginnings of a smooth baritone as his voice grew deeper. Helena was not the type to simp for a voice, but she’s done it before back home. 

She gestured for him to sit next to her, and he complied, crouching down and resting his back against the wall. Helena didn’t say anything a few moments, intensely focused on picking at a hangnail she found, but eventually she did find her voice.

“I got sorted into Slytherin.”

Tom raised an eyebrow as his expression melted into one of pleasant surprise, “Congratulations. How do you feel?”

Helena shrugged, “I don’t know,” she turned towards him, “but I am glad I get to be with you.”

His bashful smile fooled neither of them, but she did take the opportunity to admire his dimples, “Professor Slughorn will be coming soon,” she added, “to talk about my classes. Did you really wait outside the entire time?”

Now it was his turn to shrug, “Yes, and I’ll continue to wait here until you’re done.”

“Don’t you have friends you want to meet up with?” she asked, already knowing the answer, “people you haven’t seen all summer? You don’t have to stay here with me.”

“I’m here,” he said quietly, “because I  _ want to _ . No other reason.”

Helena just sighed and accepted his answer, curling up closer to him. It was moments like this that made her question his true intentions. She could speculate all day, but in the end, she really had no idea what he wanted, and to be honest, sometimes it sounded like  _ he _ didn’t know either.

Which was as comforting as it sounded.

So generally she assumed he had an ulterior motive, like this was some manipulation technique she’s never seen before. But then he would bury his face into her shoulder and she just didn’t know what to do. It was a great distraction, and not an unwelcome one either, but it was still confusing.

She didn’t want to be so narcissistic as to think that he  _ genuinely _ liked her.

“I hear footsteps,” he muttered, sounding displeased, “I should go, Slughorn will never let us hear the end of it if he found us like this.”

Helena laughed softly and gently pushed him away, “Go,” she said, “I’ll meet you at the dorms.”

Reluctantly Tom aquissed to her request and left, disappearing into the shadow-filled hallways of the castle. She sat alone for a few more moments, humming to herself, her mood considerably brighter.

When Slughorn finally did round the corner, Helena quickly stood up to greet him. He looked and had the countenance of a mall Santa, and the way he dressed definitely  _ looked _ expensive, but it was also extremely gaudy. Overall the image of a kind, portly, middle-aged man clashed horribly with the desperate social climber outfit.

But… details.

* * *

“80 years into the future,” Dippet repeated once the girl was gone, “the knowledge she must have.”

“But why?” Dumbledore asked, almost desperately, “why would my older self force a muggle girl back in time?”

“Perhaps she is important,” Dippet replied, “I trust you. Maybe you knew something we didn't.”

Dumbledore thought of the girl resting her head on Tom Riddle’s shoulder, and the boy just… allowing it. He thought of the way Tom seemed so comfortable with her, even as he pushed everyone else away. Dumbledore had been suspicious of Tom’s future for a long time now, and seeing the way the two instantly clicked with each other confirmed his fears. Perhaps Tom rose to power, destroyed everything, and his older self sent an unsuspecting muggle girl to stop it all.

“Meddling with time can have dangerous consequences,” he said gravely, “it is important that she understands that.”

  
  


“Then teach her.”

* * *

Tom made his way back to the dungeons, plans circulating his mind. This year was the year he would open the Chamber of Secrets upon the school, just because he  _ could _ . Of course, he couldn’t actually tell anyone about his accomplishments, people would always be a liability, but he’d still enjoy reveling in the terror and chaos it’ll bring. Now all he had to do was figure out where  _ she _ fitted in all his plans.

His inner circle was as clueless as ever, they would never suspect that it was him. But Helena had this knowing glint in her eyes whenever she looked at him, at least, when she wasn’t crying. It was like she knew something that he didn’t, something that could change everything. And yet, Tom didn’t know her that well, but the feeling just wouldn’t go away.

Would it be better to keep her close? To have her so entangled in his web that she wouldn’t want to leave? It was her magic he was after, and that would require him keeping her close to him, dependent on him.

But how could he gain her trust quickly? Everytime it seemed he broke down a barrier 10 more were set firmly in place. Helena was so open yet so guarded it surprised him. 

Tom had quickly arrived at the Slytherin Common Room, where he found some fifth years lounging near the fire, talking quietly to one another.

Abraxas Malfoy looked up the moment Tom stepped into the room, his expression lighting up the moment he recognized him, “Tom! You’re here! We’ve been waiting all evening for you!”

“Yeah mate,” Edmund Lestrange grumbled from the floor, “we lost you at the train. Where’ve you been?”

“I met someone interesting today,” Tom replied smoothly, fluidly taking the empty seat, “I believe we have a new member of the Slytherin House, a transfer from the States, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Is he pureblood?” Thoros Nott asked.

“ _ She _ , in fact, is muggle-born,” he said, watching as their expressions shifted into ones of disdain and disgust, “and apparently she’s never heard of magic before.”

“And the Headmaster just let her in?” Lestrange asked, horrified, “In  _ our _ House no less.”

“The standards have been dropping every year,” Malfoy lamented, “soon we’ll just be admitting muggles into this school.”   
  


The entire group shuddered and Tom tried not to roll his eyes at their dramatics.  _ But _ , their reactions were insightful, and he could see a plan forming in his mind, and he knew exactly what to do.

“It’s strange,” Tom drawled, capturing the attention of every single Slytherin in the group, “she told me she’s had no formal education at all,” he put on an expression of pity, “I worry for her safety, Miss Kim won’t be able to defend herself properly if she gets into trouble.”

Lestrange perked up, “ _ Really _ ?” 

“What does she look like Tom?” Malfoy asked curiously, “in case we want to welcome her to our House.”

_ Just like you did to me all those years ago? _

“Oh it’ll be hard to miss her,” Tom said, gleefully noticing the sinister look that crossed each boy’s face, “she has bright purple colored hair, it’s very vibrant.”

“Perhaps we can give her the proper welcome tomorrow after dinner,” Lestrange said with a smirk, “ _ and to put her in her place _ ,” he muttered under his breath.

“Gentlemen,” all eyes turned towards him as he grinned darkly, “be discreet about these things. I’ll have to interfere if it gets out of control.”

The idea was locked in their minds, and he could see the plan unfurling at his feet.

_ They’re so simple-minded _ , Tom scoffed as he bade them good-bye,  _ one mention of her blood and they’re already frothing at the mouth. _

He’ll have to play this right, these next few steps. Interfere at the right time, save her from the brutish Slytherins, enforce the idea that  _ he’s _ the only one she could trust, the only one she should depend upon. 

Nothing like a little rescue to gain another’s trust.

* * *

“I’ll never understand how Tom has this perfect student reputation,” Thoros commented offhandedly, “when he’s the same as us.”

“We’re the only ones who he can be himself with,” Abraxas countered, “and it’s nice to know that there’s a human underneath that persona.”

* * *

Horace Slughorn looked at his new student, then back at her chosen workload, then back again. Helena Kim truly did not shy away from the more difficult studies, and he worried if she would be able to handle such a rigorous course load. In fact, the only other student he remembered taking such a loaded schedule was Tom Riddle, but he had 4 years of magical schooling, a brilliant mind, and a natural affinity for magic to back him up. Miss Kim was still very new to magic, and he didn’t know how it would affect its development if she pushed herself so hard.

The miss in question was staring at him expectantly, Albus and Armado also gazing perplexed at the piece of parchment, “Do I meet all the requirements?” Miss Kim asked, “if not I was wondering if there’s a way for me to take the prereqs and the class at the same time, I did something similar last year.”

“You meet all the class requirements,” Dippet said gently, “we were simply surprised with your choices that’s all.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore chuckled, “are you sure you aren’t a Ravenclaw?”

This earned a laugh from the professors, but Miss Kim’s smile didn’t waver. Slughorn puffed up his chest in pride, “Well, it is a Slytherin’s nature to be ambitious, and Miss Kim demonstrates that quite admirably.” 

“Thank you.”

“I would be honored to teach you the previous years’ material,” Dumbledore continued, “just so you won’t fall too behind.”

“Yes, yes of course!” Slughorn agreed, “and if you feel overwhelmed, don’t hesitate to talk to the teachers or one of us. Your circumstances are very unusual and we are happy to provide the correct accommodations.” 

This time her smile did grow wider as Miss Kim did something like a half-bow, “Thank you so much!” she said, wringing her hands together, “I’m kinda excited for this.”

“Since Professor Dumbledore needs to take you to Diagon Alley to get all your school supplies, we have decided to push back the first day of school until the day after so that you will be able to start your classes the same as everybody else.”

Helena Kim nodded quickly again, “If that’s all, can I go?” she stifled a yawn, “it’s been kind of an exhausting day for me.”

“Of course,” Dumbledore said, “I’ll meet you at the Great Hall tomorrow during lunch.”

“Follow me Miss Kim,” Slughorn gestured towards the door, “I will show you where your common room is.”

Helena Kim followed him quickly, a little bounce in her step as they walked through Hogwarts empty halls. He could tell she didn’t want to speak, so he kept his mouth shut. Albus was able to fill him in on what happened to her. Poor girl, no one deserved to live like that. Slughorn fought a shudder, he knew this muggle war was harsher than the first, but the way it was affecting witches and wizards was unacceptable, yet the Ministry continued to do nothing to protect its magical children.

_ I suppose MASCUA is no better,  _ he grumbled internally,  _ allowing one of its citizens to get trapped in an internment camp of all places. _

* * *

The Slytherin Common Room was everything Helena expected it to be. With a calming and serene atmosphere, she took in the elegant decorations, the emerald green curtains, and the massive window to the Black Lake. It was as if she was in a giant aquarium, staring into the void and hoping something was staring back. Green torches illuminated the room, providing enough light for students to read and do homework comfortably. She could see chairs and sofas scattered throughout the room, most of them surrounding the fireplace. A portrait of Salazar Slytherin hung above the mantle, although it appeared that he was asleep. 

Helena could see a group of teens hanging around the fire, and they immediately turned towards her the moment she and Slughorn entered the room. Their sneering expressions weren’t friendly, but she never expected them to be. So, as discreetly as she could, Helena met their hostility with a stony glare of her own, calm and unamused. One of them had platinum blond hair, and she instantly recognized him as a Malfoy. Which one she wasn’t sure.

_ Oh it’s Tom’s little cult group _ , she thought with a laugh,  _ I wonder if he told them about me yet. _

“Oh boys!” Slughorn said, breaking the growing tension, “you’re still awake?”

Malfoy smiled thinly, “Too excited to sleep professor.”

“Well, this is Helena Kim!” she gave a bored wave, “she’ll be in your year. Promise me you’ll look out for her eh? Miss Kim will need some time to adjust,” Slughorn began to whisper conspiratally, “she’s from America you see.”

“Of course,” another said with an equally sinister grin, malice evident in his expression, “we’ll be happy to help her adjust.”

Somehow, the old professor was oblivious to the underlying threat, as he beamed happily, “Splendid! Well, Miss Kim,” he said with a wink, “I will see you tomorrow. Good night!”

“Boa noite,” Helena replied absentmindedly, keeping her attention focused on the group in front of her. 

And then she was alone, with five teenage boys staring at her with varying levels of disgust and hatred. Helena would be lying if that didn’t make her feel a little uncomfortable. Five against one was much worse odds than earlier. Not really knowing what else to do, she simply feigned nonchalance, “It was nice meeting all of you,” she said politely, “maybe we can talk more tomorrow.”

“Unlikely,” one of them said loudly and the rest of the group dissolved into snickers. 

“Yeah,” she was beginning to hate their stupid accents, “ _ mudblood _ .”

Helena closed her eyes briefly and showed no outward reaction to the slur. Honestly it wasn’t even offensive to her, but it was clearly meant to hurt, and she knew that it was a taboo word in the society, which meant all the teenage boys said it whenever they could. 

_ I will cut out their throats and feed their tongues to my dog. _

She blinked, looking down sadly,  _ I don’t have a dog anymore. _

_ I miss my babies. _

Holding her head up high and ignoring their mocking laughter, Helena made her way up the stairs that had  _ Fifth Year Girls’ Dormitory _ engraved on a silver plaque. 

Her new dorm room was equally ornate and lavish as the common room. Six poster beds lined the room, each bed a beautiful emerald green. It seemed that most of the girls were already asleep, the closed curtains around their beds gave it away. 

Quietly Helena crept to the open bed, collapsing onto the comfortable duvet the moment she reached it. Belatedly she realized that she never gave Tom back his robes, its worn fabric still wrapped around her. 

_ I can always do it tomorrow _ , she thought with a yawn, to emotionally exhausted to even think,  _ or uhhhh yeah tomorrow _

And perhaps, in her first night in the wizarding world, Helena will dream of pleasant things. 

Like if she can persuade Dumbledore to get her a puppy.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm exhausted all the time for some reason so iv'e been taking lots of naps to compensate??? And I dreamt of dying but I stayed in a perpetual state of pain because my brain doesn't fucking know what comes after death so it just had me laying there with bullet holes in my chest bleeding out on the floor
> 
> The Joker was the one who "killed" me for some reason, I think it was an omen
> 
> Anyways I rewrote chapter 1 if you wanna look at it again <3


End file.
